All I Wanna Do
by Brambleshadow of WindClan
Summary: Ziva is driving home one rainy night when she spots a very familiar figure on the side of the road. So she picks him up and they head towards a hotel . . .
1. All I Wanna Do Is Make Love to You

**Summary: Ziva is driving home one rainy night when she spots a very familiar figure on the road. So she picks him up and they head towards a hotel . . .**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the song or the plotline.**

**This is a multi-chap fic, based on the Heart song "All I Wanna Do Is Make Love to You." The lyrics are kinda the prologue, I guess, and the general idea for the storyline, though I've tweaked it a bit. The time frame is Season 6 (that was the one with Rivkin, right?) so there's gonna be Tony/Ziva/Michael pairing. ****Enjoy.**

* * *

><p>It was a rainy night when he came into sight<br>Standing by the road, no umbrella, no coat  
>So I pulled up along side and I offered him a ride<br>He accepted with a smile, so we drove for a while  
>I didn't ask him his name, this lonely boy in the rain<br>Fate, tell me it's right, is this love at first sight  
>Please don't make it wrong, just stay for the night<p>

All I wanna do is make love to you  
>Say you will<br>You want me too  
>All I wanna do is make love to you<br>I've got lovin' arms to hold on to

So we found this hotel, it was a place I knew well  
>We made magic that night. Oh, he did everything right<br>He brought the woman out of me, so many times, easily  
>And in the morning when he woke all I left him was a note<br>I told him 'I am the flower you are the seed'  
>We walked in the garden, we planted a tree<br>Don't try to find me, please don't you dare  
>Just live in my memory, you'll always be there<p>

All I wanna do is make love to you  
>One night of love was all we knew<br>All I wanna do is make love to you  
>I've got lovin' arms to hold on to<p>

Oh, oooh we made love  
>Love like strangers<br>All night long  
>We made love<p>

Then it happened one day we came round the same way  
>You can imagine his surprise when he saw his own eyes<br>I said please please understand I'm in love with another man  
>And what he couldn't give me was the one little thing that you can<p>

All I wanna do is make love to you  
>One night of love was all we knew<br>All I want to do is make love to you  
>Come on, say you will, you want me too<p>

All I wanna do is make love to you  
>One night of love was all we knew<br>All I wanna do is make love to you  
>Say you will, baby, you want me too<p>

All night long  
>All night long<br>All night long  
>All night long<p>

All I wanna do  
>All I wanna do<br>All I wanna do  
>All I wanna do<br>All I wanna do is make love to you

One night of love was all we knew  
>Yeah<br>All night long


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

The rain pounded against the windows of NCIS headquarters in the Navy Yard. Team Gibbs had just closed a case, and the agents were just hanging out. Well, Tony and Ziva were. McGee had left a few minutes before with Abby, probably to go bowling with the nuns, and Gibbs was reclining in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, cup of coffee in hand, taking sips at regular intervals. DiNozzo and David were looking at something on Tony's computer, Ziva's head dangerously close to his. The Bossman sent them a warning look, but if either of them noticed, they gave no sign. Besides, Ziva was already seeing someone: Michael Rivkin. Gibbs knew Tony was jealous, even if the senior field agent didn't realize it himself. He'd made Rule Twelve for a reason, but honestly, it was about time that they broke it. There was the constant sexual tension between them, and of course one would display jealousy—or signs of it—when the other was seeing someone. Leroy Jethro Gibbs thought he'd never see the day when he was wishing for one of his rules to be broken, most of all numero doce. (Even if he himself did break a few rules on occasion.) Finally Ziva extracted herself from Tony's office space and grabbed her jacket, which was laid across the back of her chair. She called, "See you tomorrow morning," as she walked to the elevator.

Gibbs grunted and Tony, who was done messing around on the Internet, had to hurry to catch her before the doors closed.

Ziva tried so hard to ignore the underlying current running between them. She wouldn't—couldn't—cheat on Michael. Relief flooded her when they walked out to the lot and each headed toward their separate car. At least she wouldn't see him till morning, Ziva thought as she slid inside her red vehicle and turned the key in the ignition. Her car came to life and, windshield wipers on to deflect the oncoming rain, the Mossad liaison pulled out of the parking lot and started for home. Without her knowing, Tony had a few seconds head start and was already out of the Navy Yard.

She switched on the radio for company, changing stations until she heard a song that caught her interest and made her listen intently. The artist was singing about a one-night stand with a stranger she'd picked up by the road on a rainy night much like this one, only to reveal later that her intention was to have a child because the man she loved hadn't been able to give her any. Of course, Ziva wouldn't _dream _of doing anything like that, but she was beginning to see why a woman would do something so desperate.

When that song was over, Aerosmith's "Janie's Got a Gun" began to play. Ziva smirked; somehow, this sounded like something the former Director, Jenny Shepard, would do.

Suddenly her headlights lit up a lone figure—a _very familiar _figure. Already he was soaked through to the skin with rain. Mentally kicking herself for what she was about to do, Ziva slowed down and pulled over, rolling town the passenger side window.

"Hey, Ziva. My car broke down. Thanks for stopping."

She sighed. "Tony, do you want a ride?"


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

He smiled. "Thanks for the offer," he said as she unlocked the passenger door. Tony slid in, closing the door as soon as he was completely in the shotgun seat. Rainwater fell in tiny rivulets from his darkened hair, but Ziva didn't mind, oddly enough.

"You mind turning on the heat, Ziva?"

He didn't seem to be aware that his comment was double-edged—at least to her—but she turned on the car's heater anyway to dry him off. Her partner reclined in the seat, hands behind his head. His eyes closed and a satisfied moan escaped from his lips. It was a throaty sound, almost a purr.

Ziva forced her thoughts away from her partner. Her thinking was starting to traverse into forbidden territory. That song she'd heard was messing with her mind, the chorus playing in her head: _All I wanna do is make love to you/Say you will/You want me too . . . _But the heat flooding the car felt wonderful, and his scent . . . To distract herself, she asked, "Were you just going to head home, Tony?"

"Yeah," he replied, opening his eyes so they were green slits. "Did you have someplace else in mind?" Her partner grinned impishly, but it faded a second later. "That was inappropriate, considering you already have a boyfriend."

Her knuckles gripped the steering wheel so tightly that they turned white. She shot him an angry look. "Funny, I seem to remember you teasing me when you were with Jeanne."

Hurt flashed in his eyes and automatically she reached out, resting a hand on his thigh. Her intent was to comfort him, but instead she found that she wanted to be with _him _inbed tonight, not Michael. _NO! That can't be . . . _Yet the desire pulling at her was too strong to resist. She had to give in, much as she hated to admit it.

A blinking neon sign for a motel caught her eye. Glancing quickly at Tony, the Mossad liaison saw that his eyes had closed once again, lulled by the warmth inside her red Mini Cooper. Should she stop here or keep going on to his place? The surge of desire almost tempted her to stop. All she wanted was to have him just this once. No one would have to know. She pulled into the lot without consciously making the decision, stopped the car, and stepped out. The sound of the car door slamming shut made Tony's green irises snap open. He glanced at her through hazy eyes, clearly wondering why they'd stopped here instead of going to his place. His car had broken down, after all.

Then she opened his door and gave him a teasing, inviting look. "You coming, Tony? Or would you rather I go home to Rivkin?" God, she couldn't believe she was doing this. That song had just fueled memories of the undercover mission, how it could have been different . . . But they'd just been faking. The storyline and chorus didn't help either: _Please don't make it wrong, just stay for the night. All I wanna do is make love to you . . . _Yet when a predatory look shone through the haziness in her partner's eyes, Ziva's inner woman was feeling wicked.

He stepped out of the car and followed her into the lobby, where they rented a room for the night. She tried to hide the cat-swallowed-the-canary look on her face, but she couldn't, not completely. _Geez, can't you control your raging hormones for five minutes, Ziva?_

The door to their motel room shut behind them, locking from the outside. Thinking fast, the Israeli hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the outside handle before sitting on the edge of the bed. Her brown-black tresses fell forward, framing her face and hiding her expression. She heard movement as Tony took off his lightweight jacked and laid it over the back of one of the chairs before sitting next to her. His touch sent shivers running through her. "Are you okay, Ziva?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice. His hand started to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear but stilled when she turned and leaned into him, trailing feather-light kisses along his collarbone and neck. "Ziva, what are you doing?"

"This from the playboy?" she teased softly, hands reaching for the ends of his damp shirt. "Please, Tony." Desire filled her again for the third time that night. "Let me make love to you." She removed his T-shirt and began running her hands up his arms and across his shoulders while her mouth moved up the side of his neck. The entire time she talked she breathed warm air across skin wet from the rain outside.

His eyes closed briefly and Ziva could tell he was fighting with himself. They opened again and he ground out, "What about Michael?"

"What he doesn't know will never hurt him," she replied, her lips moving to capture his. "Tony, please, say you will."

The senior field agent's resolve diminished rapidly at the taste of her. His hands wrapped around her waist, slowly pulling up her shirt over her head. It landed on the floor beside his own. She turned and leaned against him so her back was resting on his chest. Slowly, he brought his left hand up and moved her curtain of hair to the side before tasting the curve of her neck. Her head threw back, a low, soft moan escaping from her. The sound almost drove him crazy—almost. Then the next thing he knew, they were both devoid of any clothing and he was looking up at her, her dark eyes almost black with lust.

They fell together easily, making love time after time for what remained of the night, or so it seemed. When Tony finally fell asleep at 0500, Ziva was still awake. Glancing over at him, she smiled slightly, planted a light kiss on his forehead, then rolled out of bed and threw on her clothes. All she left him was a note where he would see it.

On the drive back to her place, she realized briefly that she'd left Tony without a way to work, but brushed aside when Michael's face flashed in her mind's eye. God, if he ever found out what she'd done . . . betraying him by sleeping with her _partner,_ who'd already told him to stay away from her . . . He'd be furious, no doubt about it. So would Gibbs, and Ziva wasn't sure how long she'd be able to keep this a secret from her boss, especially if it turned out . . . She prayed that wouldn't happen, but she'd have at least four weeks to find out.

When she reached home, Ziva changed into her running clothes and went for her daily run. Afterwards she stretched, showered, dresses, and ate breakfast before heading to work. It was only 0620.

...

Meanwhile, Tony reached over, searching for Ziva's warm body in the space next to him, and found only the cool mattress and sheets where she'd lain. Puzzled, his eyes opened, his brain taking a few seconds to process what he was seeing. Which was an empty space where Ziva had been. Her clothes were gone, and there was a note on her pillow. Of course, he picked it up, lurching into a sitting position to read it.

_Tony,_

_ Thanks for last night. Please don't say anything to the rest of the team, even Gibbs. And Tony, don't try to find me—please don't you dare._

_ Ziva_

" 'Just live in my memory, you'll always be there,' " he quoted the line of an old song. Then another thought hit him. _Gibbs is going to kill us._


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Somehow, DiNozzo made it to the Navy Yard, coincidentally arriving at the same time as Ziva. Of course, he didn't believe in coincidences, but if the Fates had anything to do with this—

He shut off his thoughts as Abby and McGee, near the probie's computer, gave him curious looks. Then Abby noticed the quiet awkward tension between him and Ziva and she smiled. "You two made love last night, didn't you?"

"Abby!" A horrified McGee smacked her shoulder. "I did _not _need that mental image, thank you very much!"

"You're welcome," she said, looking at them expectantly.

Tony rubbed the back of his head, feeling uncomfortable. "Uh, no," he lied, turning to Ziva to back him up.

Once again, she had fled.

_Oh, for crying out loud! _Tony thought in exasperation. _Are you serious? _"Where'd she go?" he asked out loud.

McGee pointed to the elevator, whose doors were already closed. Tony turned, but it was too late. The Mossad officer had left and was probably long gone.

...

Ziva didn't really care where she was going; all she wanted was to be away from the team right now. Without consciously thinking about it, she started heading to the café where she'd met Rivkin so many times. She didn't really expect him to be there, so she was surprise to find that he was.

...

DiNozzo swallowed uncomfortably, not liking the way Abby and Tim were studying him. He knew the Goth wouldn't stop quizzing him unless she found out what he wasn't telling them; she was very persistent that way. Thank God Gibbs hadn't returned yet; this could turn even more awkward real fast.

"Tony," McGee said slowly, "what did you do?"

His temper flared. "I didn't do anything, McNosy! I just—" He broke off abruptly before he spilled everything.

Abby grinned. "So you did! Don't try to deny it, Tony. You two _sooo _did it last night, huh?"

"Uh . . ."

"Don't ask, don't tell," Gibbs said as he walked in. Glancing around, the Bossman remarked, "Where's Ziva?"

Abby and Tim said, "I don't know," while Tony shrugged and replied, "I dunno."

Gibbs looked at him shrewdly.

"I'll go find her."

The team's leader nodded. "You do that, DiNozzo."

Tony hurried to the elevator, pressed the Down arrow, and was on the road a couple minutes later in one of the agency's Chargers.

...

Ziva was rooted to the spot. She tried taking a few steps forward, but couldn't force her legs to move. The Mossad liaison was scared that if he talked to her or was near her, he'd somehow figure out that she'd betrayed him. But how much loyalty did she owe him anyway? Shoving the thought aside, she found herself moving forward at Rivkin's questioning, concerned look. Numbly, she sat down across the table from him.

His nimble fingers clasped over her clenched fists. Ziva averted her gaze, refusing to look directly at him. There was silence for a few moments; then he said in a taut voice, "Where were you last night?"


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

The female Mossad liaison officer tensed. "I was out," she muttered, suddenly fascinated by the pattern in the glass tabletop.

"Not with anyone else, I hope." Was that a possessive tone in his voice?

"No," Ziva lied, fighting a sudden wave of guilt.

"Good." His fingers retreated, leaving her skin feeling cold and clammy. Nervously, Ziva rubbed the palms of her hands against her jeans. She didn't know why she felt so skittish—unless she was afraid Michael would deliberately hurt either her or Tony. But that was crazy; Michael was the man she loved . . . right?

"Ziva, what's wrong?"

When she still didn't look at him, he gently lifted her head so they were eye-to-eye. "Tell me." His voice, though soft, had a commanding tone.

_Yeah, right. "I wasn't with you last night because my partner and I were gettin' hot and heavy." He'd never want me near him. No way, José. And I'm not telling him that I might be carrying another man's child. _Not that she knew for certain, of course.

Instead of answering, Ziva jerked her head away from Rivkin's touch and rose, the chair's legs scraping against the patio. "I'll see you later, Michael." She walked towards her car without looking back. Ziva was so lost in thought she didn't notice Tony leaning on a stop sign post nearby.

...

The senior field agent watched from a distance as Ziva stood from where she'd been talking with her Mossad boyfriend—just thinking about it made him grit his teeth—and walk back to her car. As she drove out of sight, Tony shoved off the post and took the seat she had formerly occupied. "I thought I told you to stay away from Ziva," he said coldly.

Mossad Officer Michael Rivkin sent him an irritated look. "She doesn't need you looking out for her. Ziva can take care of herself."

"I know that."

"So why do you insist on protecting her?"

"Because I don't want to see her hurt. Her father, her half brother . . . they all betrayed her."

"I would never hurt Ziva."

"You keep telling yourself that," Tony said, his voice cool as he rose from the seat. "Nice talking to you." _Not. Never was._ "And here's a piece of advice: Leave while you can."

He walked away before Rivkin could retaliate, hoping to catch Ziva and bring her back to the Navy Yard. Starting the Charger, he started driving in the same direction he'd last seen her go in.

...

Ziva sat on a bench in a nearby park, grateful there was hardly anyone there. She put her head to her hands, trying to sort out her conflicting emotions. _Tony is my partner. I care about him, but Michael was sent by my father . . . I mean, Tony's just a friend, right? _Yet she knew that though their relationship had many levels, they had never been _lovers _until last night. She sighed, wondering if she would ever figure out their relationship.

The Mossad liaison officer was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the person standing in front of her until he cleared his throat. As a reflex, her head jerked up and she lashed out with a well-aimed fist.

He blocked the blow and said, "Ziva, relax! It's just me."

"Tony, what part of 'don't try to find me' don't you get?"

"Gibbs sent me after you."

"And you wanted to look for me anyway."

"Well, yes," he admitted. "Ziva, come back with me. Please." His green-gray eyes held hers, pleading silently with her.

At last, she relented. "All right."

...

Four weeks later since that fateful night, Ziva stood in her bathroom looking down at the test in her hands, which read positive. Her hands started shaking. The test slipped from her quivering phalanges and actually landed with precise precision in the little trash can.

She leaned forward, her hands resting on the counter. _NO! I didn't want this! _Slowly she lifted her head and looked at her reflection. _God forgive me. . . . _And yet, she knew she was going to keep it.

After going for her run and eating breakfast, she headed to the office, hoping no other members of the team were there.

As luck would have it, she was the only one there. Going over to her desk, she took a blank sheet of paper and a pen and scribbled a note. Satisfied with what she'd written, she set it on Tony's desk and then left. Ziva didn't like it, but it had to be done.

...

The first thing Tony saw when he stepped out of the elevator at 0700 was McGee and Gibbs at their desks and no Ziva anywhere in sight. "Boss, have you seen Ziva?"

The former Marine shook his head.

"McGee?"

"No. I even tried her cell a few times, but she's not answering. Sorry, Tony."

"Why are you apologizing, Timmy?" chirped Abby from where she'd just materialized next to the probie. Then she noticed a vital team member was missing. "Where's our resident assassin?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," Tony said as he sat down at his desk. It was then that he noticed the note. Reading it over silently, he commented, "Well, this explains a lot."

"What does?" Abby questioned, abandoning her spot at Tim's desk so she could read the note over his shoulder. "Aww, how romantic!"

DiNozzo silenced her with a shrewd look.

Too late. Elf Lord and the Bossman had heard her and were on their way over.

McGee sped-read it, then covered his eyes. "Dude, I _so _didn't need to know that!"

Abby grinned. "So I was right!"

"Shut up!" Tony hissed, hastily folding the paper so Gibbs couldn't see what Ziva had written.

"Is something going on here that I need to know about?" said the team leader.

"No," DiNozzo said quickly, hoping the others would follow his lead. Neither Abby nor Tim contradicted him.

Gibbs returned to his desk.

The forensic scientist said, "Let me read it again!"

In response, Tony tossed it. It didn't matter, since he'd already memorized it. It read:

_Tony,_

_ I am the flower, you are the seed. We walked in the garden, we planted a tree. Don't try to find me—please don't you dare. Just live in my memory. You'll always be there._

_ Love,_

_ Ziva_

And all because of one reckless night of love. The only thought going through his head was, _Ziva, I'm so sorry._


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

She drove around aimlessly for a while, not sure where she was going or even where she wanted to go. Ziva stopped the car—finally—and somehow wasn't surprised to find herself outside her home. In a daze, she made her way up the front steps and through the building to her apartment. Once inside, she turned and slid down the side of the door. Sitting down with her knees drawn up to her chest, Ziva hung her head and wrapped her arms around her legs. _How could this have happened? _Well, she knew _how_ it happened, but . . .

_Why? _she asked herself. _Why did I do what I did?_

Even as she thought it, she realized she didn't have an answer.

...

The rapping at her door snapped her awake—and sent her tumbling off the couch onto the floor as she reached for her weapon and overextended. Ziva didn't remember lying on the couch or falling asleep, but she must have. Anyway, she lurched to her feet, grabbing for her gun, and went to the door, hoping it wasn't Tony or Michael. She didn't want to see either of them right now.

Of course, she couldn't be that lucky. Sighing, she opened the door an inch. She hissed, "What are you doing here?"

Rivkin shouldered the door open further and stepped inside. "I wanted to see you, Ziva." He moved closer to her, rested one hand on her arm, and traced the other along her jawline. Her mind whirled; instead of Michael she was seeing Tony, replaying that night a month ago. When Rivkin brought her face centimeters away from his, she jerked free of his grip. Puzzled, he stepped back and released her. "Is something wrong?"

"I just want to be by myself right now," she said. _Well, it's part of the truth. _The rest was that, now, every time he touched her, she didn't see him but the man whose child she was now carrying. Eventually she'd have to tell Michael about the baby. Just not today.

Her Mossad boyfriend nodded. "Okay." Not wanting to be drop-kicked out the window where he'd most likely end up falling to his death, he turned and left. Just like that.

It wasn't until she heard his vehicle start up and roar out of sight that she allowed herself to relax.

The ringing of her cell phone broke the quiet and made her jump. Fishing her phone out of her pocket, she checked the caller I.D. _DiNozzo_. Ziva ignored it and trudged into her bedroom. Right now, all she wanted to do was sleep.

And as she slept, she dreamed.

_Raindrops pattered relentlessly against the windowpane but quickly faded to background noise; Ziva was much more interested in tormenting Tony. She leaned over him, nuzzling him, then blazed a trail down his abdomen. He groaned and jerked upward in response as her lips traced the soft skin of his throat. Somehow—she didn't really know how or when—he flipped her over. Now Tony was the one on top, teasing her, threatening to push her over the edge. It seemed to go on forever, both of them constantly changing positions. Ziva didn't mind; she was reveling in the taste, the smell, the _feel_ of him._

_Then he was inside her . . ._

Ziva woke with a start, bolting upright, gasping. Her sheets were soaked with sweat. Heart thumping, she looked around wildly, half expecting Tony to be in the room with her. Relief crashed through her when she confirmed she was alone.

The dream pricked at her conscience. Yet it wasn't just a dream: it was a memory.

Desperation clawed at her heart. She had to leave. Ziva couldn't be at work now, what with her condition. There was another reason, one she was scared to admit: She didn't know how she could keep it a secret without anyone on Team Gibbs finding out—especially Tony. The note had probably clued him in, but knowing him, he might not make the connection. Then again, the senior field agent had the most dirty mind. Add to the fact that she hadn't slept with anyone since then . . . Yes, if she stayed her secret was in danger of being discovered. There was only one thing that came to mind.

Fumbling for her cell, Ziva hit one of the numbers on speed dial and listened to the other phone ringing. When the person picked up, she said, "Michael, do you know of any safe houses nearby?"

...

The months flew by like leaves in the wind. It was now November and Ziva's daughter had been born two months previously. She'd never told Michael who the father was, only that she'd been expecting, and let him assume Sarah was his. Ziva didn't like lying to him, but this was yet another secret she had to keep.

In the past few months, she'd severed all her ties with NCIS and gone underground, thinking it was best to let Gibbs, Ducky, Vance, Tony, Tim, and Abby to think she'd died or gone back to Israel. Ziva had retreated to a safe house Mossad had used in the past, one her teammates had no knowledge of, and only made transactions when she'd needed to in cash. The safe house was deep in the woods, practically in the middle of nowhere, and she was as content as she could be while missing her NCIS friends and taking care of her daughter.

Fate had other plans.

One cool, autumn afternoon, Ziva was on her way to what she now thought of as her home when she saw the familiar NCIS truck and the black Chargers. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the field agents: her old team.

Without really thinking about it, Ziva pulled over and, shooting a quick glance at Sarah in the backseat, hopped out of the car. The sound of the car door slamming shut alerted Team Gibbs to her presence and their heads swiveled as one in her direction.

Under their stares, Ziva had to fight the sudden urge to turn tail. Then McGee came walking towards her. "I'm sorry, miss, but you're going to have to leave. This is a crime scene."

She didn't move; just stood there and studied him with her head tilted to the side. "You don't remember me, McGee?"

Sudden recognition flared in his eyes. "Ziva? You're alive?"

She nodded and said with biting sarcasm, "Obviously."

"But . . . we thought you were dead," he stammered, obviously flustered.

Attracted by the attention, Tony and Gibbs were now coming over. The team leader said gravely, "Ziva, what are you doing here?"

"I was on my way home and saw you guys," she replied. The Israeli was deliberately avoiding Tony's gaze, which was trained on her like a dog on a rabbit. Gibbs, of course, immediately picked up on the tension between his senior field agent and Mossad officer and went back to the body.

DiNozzo gently lifted her face so she was looking him in the eyes. "Ziva," he said, "what happened? Why'd you leave?"

She hesitated, then murmured, "Follow me. There's something you should see." The Israeli started back to her red Mini Cooper, the movie-loving agent on her six.

"Ziva, what's going—?" Tony broke off as she opened the back door, exposing the two-month-old girl in the carrier. Sensing she was being watched, the child turned her head so she was looking at the adults. Her eyes were the same shade of green as DiNozzo's.

Watching him, Ziva saw the surprise flare in Tony's eyes and he made a strangled sound. He choked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I did," she said flatly. Her voice took on a pleading tone. "But Tony, please, please understand. I'm in love with another man, and what he couldn't give me was the one little thing that you can."

Tony's eyes took on a look of stunned disbelief and he raised a hand to his temple in an absentminded way. "God, Ziva. How do you—" He broke off abruptly as the ex-sniper came over. Gibbs asked, "Is there a problem here?"

Then the silver-haired agent saw the child in the backseat and his gaze flew to the Israeli and Italian. "I see," was all he said.

Ziva swallowed hard. "Gibbs, please forgive me. I had to. It was—"

"Don't you dare say it was for the best, Ziva," Gibbs snapped. "We thought you were dead, and you've been here all this time! And for what? So you could save your own skin? I never figured you for a coward."

"I'm not," she replied in a soft, hard voice. "And it wasn't just me I was saving." Her eyes flicked meaningfully to her daughter, then back at him. "You of all people should know that."

They all knew what she meant. Gibbs had lost his wife, Shannon, and his daughter, Kelly, and gone after their murderer. He'd taken out Mexican drug dealer Pedro Hernandez with a single sniper shot to the forehead through the windshield of his pickup truck. Ziva could see those memories in Gibbs' eye now.

Finally the team leader inclined his head. His eyes meeting hers, he said, "You're always welcome back at NCIS. I'd be glad to have you on my team again." Then, as if nothing had happened, he began heading back to crime scene and Ducky, Palmer, and Co.

Once he was gone, Ziva shut the car door and forced herself to meet Tony's eyes—again. Those green orbs were unreadable and she found it hard to tell what he was thinking or feeling. Anger? Disappointment? Maybe both? There was no way for her to tell, but the more she studied him the more she could feel her old desire rising. Desperately she clamped down on it; giving in to her feelings was what had put her in this situation in the first place. God, why did he have to be so irresistible? Again, she heard that song playing in her mind: _One night of love was all we knew/All I want to do is make love to you/Come on, say you will, you want me too._

As if he knew what she was thinking, a corner of DiNozzo's mouth hitched up in what could have passed for a smile. It faded before Ziva could decide if she'd actually seen it. While she was pondering over that, his lips brushed against hers, so light that she almost hadn't felt it. He said quietly, "I'm here for you, Ziva, if you need me. So is the rest of the team." Before she could respond, he was walking away. The dark storm clouds that had been threatening overhead suddenly burst open, sending a steady drizzle down along with mist. It didn't take long for the NCIS team to finish processing and securing the scene and leave. Ziva noticed that Gibbs was driving by himself, leaving Tony to ride with McGee. She would have waited until they'd left, but the rain forced her into her car. Gunning the engine, she pulled away, intending to go to the safe house before moving back to her apartment.

...

Tony and Tim drove along the road in silence. The probie was the first one to speak. "What happened with Ziva, Tony?"

"Remember that note she left months ago?" DiNozzo glanced to his right so he could gauge McGee's reaction. Elf Lord nodded, a slightly disgusted look flashing across his face. "Thanks for reminding— Oh. So _that's_ why she left."

"Yes."

"Abby's gonna be happy for the two of you when she realizes she was right."

Tony scoffed. "More like she's gonna be so hopped up on Caf-Pow she'll be bouncing off the walls."

Tim had to smile at the mental image. "That would be more accurate."

DiNozzo hardly heard him. Now he was trapped in memories: the heat of her bodies, her flesh blazing hot against his damp skin; how just one taste of her had left him wanting more; her muffled screams shattering the relative quiet. . . . _Oh, God help me._

Then McGee turned on the radio, changing stations until the strains of a 1990's ballad resonated through the car. Tony froze as he heard the opening line:

_"It was a rainy night when he came into sight . . ."_

_Oh, no. Although, this does remind me of a movie . . . _

McGee gave him a sideways look. Noticing it, Tony snapped, "What are you looking at, Probie?"

* * *

><p><strong>As to why I picked the name. I was thinking of Hebrew names, and I flashed back to that one episode where Ziva said "Sarah. That's a Hebrew name" to that one redneck - no offense - and it just stuck in my mind and wouldn't let go. So . . . yeah.<strong>


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

It didn't take long for Ziva to move back; she'd kept paying the rent for reasons unknown even to her and she didn't have a whole lot in the safe house anyway. The next day, she received a visitor. She should have been expecting it, really.

There, standing in the doorway, was the whole team, Abby included. Ziva sighed and started to shut the door, but Gibbs braced a hand against the doorframe, preventing her from closing it all the way. "Ziva, can't we come in?"

She thought about it, glanced around, and reluctantly stepped back, allowing them in. The Gothic forensic scientist's gaze immediately fell on little Sarah and she grinned broadly. "I knew it!"

"Quiet!" Ziva hissed. "She's asleep." She shot a look over her shoulder to make sure her daughter was still asleep. The girl was dead to the world. Satisfied, Ziva returned her gaze to the team. "What are you doing here?"

Everyone looked at Tony and stepped back, leaving the father of her child standing awkwardly in front of Ziva. He looked back briefly, the look on his face saying, _Come on, seriously? Why me?_ At Abby's shooing motion with her hands, he turned back to the Israeli. "Uh, good question. _Someone_"—he glared pointedly at McGee—"let it slip to Abby that the reason you've been gone so long is because you're raising our daughter. Naturally, she dragged all of us here."

Ziva had to smile at the mental image of Abby grabbing the three agents by their hands and pulling them behind her all the way to the parking lot. "Why do I have no trouble believing that?"

Behind Tony, Gibbs cleared his throat. "Ziva, do you still want to come back to NCIS?"

She held his gaze steadily. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, I don't know," he said sarcastically. "Maybe because someone has to care for your child."

"Well, other female agents have been able to raise families, right?" she argued. "I don't see why I can't."

"We-ll," Tim said slowly, "how about we just leave?" Even as he asked the question he was slinking for the door. Before he reached it, however, the door opened. Everyone whirled around.

There in the doorway was Rivkin, looking extremely confused. "What's going on?"

Gibbs marched right up in the Mossad officer's face. He growled, "I thought I told you to leave the country already."

"As did I," Tony added. If looks could kill, Michael would be lying on the floor dead in a millisecond.

Abby and McGee slowly backed away, the Goth whispering, "Awkward," in a singsong-y voice.

"Ya think?" Elf Lord replied sarcastically.

Gibbs glared at the two. "How 'bout the both of you: shut up."

Abby gasped, "Gibbs! You've never said that to me. _Never_!" However, she fell silent when everyone—McGee included—stared at her with a will-you-shut-up-and-get-to-the-point look. The Goth gulped and said, "Shutting up. I'm gonna leave now. Come on, McGee."

"Wait, what?"

But she had already pulled him out the door, much to the others' amusement.

When they were gone, Gibbs went into the kitchen in search of coffee and to give the three of them some room. This could turn very ugly.

There was silence for a few heartbeats as Tony and Michael gave each other long, measured looks. Rivkin's gaze froze as he took in the color of Tony's eyes. Then they flickered to Sarah's, resting on her for a moment, before finally landing on Ziva. In that single look, she knew he knew the truth and she found she couldn't bear the upset look in his eyes. There was more than hurt: there was anger, too.

"You lied to me." His voice was cool, devoid of emotion.

From the kitchen came Gibbs' voice. "Hey, Ziva! Where do you keep the coffee?"

She sighed. "I'll be right back," she told the two men standing in front of her. She ducked into the kitchen, grabbed the coffee can for Gibbs, and was back in the living room in less than a minute. Her mouth opened to speak, but Tony interrupted before she could say anything.

"Hey, if it's any consolation, she didn't say anything to me," DiNozzo told Rivkin.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"That still doesn't make it right. She had your daughter without telling you, and told me it was mine. And of course, there's the little matter of how this came to be in the first place."

"Very good point. Is anyone else reminded of _The Notebook_?"

Ziva sighed and slapped a hand on her forehead, slowly dragging it down. "Tony, this isn't one of your movies."

"You're right about that," called Gibbs from the kitchen.

The three of them turned and stared in the silver-haired agent's direction. Apparently the ex-Marine was still making coffee. Or not, since moments later the sounds of splashing liquid followed by loud swearing could be heard. Then Gibbs appeared in the doorway, sipping from a mug of black coffee. "Please, don't let me interrupt," he said when he noticed their stares.

_Oo-kay,_ Ziva thought. Finally she forced herself to meet Michael and Tony's eyes. Anger was still smoldering in Rivkin's, while DiNozzo's were dancing with suppressed laughter. She really didn't find anything in the situation funny and said so.

Gibbs took a sip of coffee and said, "She's right, DiNozzo. This _is _your daughter. Are you sure you're up to being a father?"

The laughter in Tony's eyes faded quickly. "What about _him_?" He pointed at Michael with an index finger, since his arms were folded across his chest. "He shouldn't even be _in _the United States. Mossad can't operate on American soil."

"I'm working undercover, trying to apprehend a sleeper cell in Los Angeles," Rivkin said calmly.

"Why, you—" DiNozzo started forward, ready for a fight. The Mossad officer faced him, eyes goading him on.

"Stop!" Ziva cried. When they both looked at her, she ordered, "Both of you, get out! Now! If you don't . . . well, I really don't want to hurt either of you, but I will."

The two men knew she would carry out her threat, so they did the smart thing and left.

When they left, the only people in the room were Ziva, little Sarah, and Gibbs. Ziva turned to the man she thought of as a surrogate father, unshed tears in her eyes. Knowing what she needed, he set down the coffee mug and held her close. "Ziva, it's going to be okay," he assured her softly. "You'll work it out."

"I hope you're right."

Stroking her hair to calm her down, Gibbs thought, _I hope so, too._


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Tony's mind was reeling as he made his way out to his Mustang. He'd only found out recently that Ziva had had his daughter as a result of their one night together, but not only that, she had lied to Michael, her (gag) boyfriend, and said the girl was his. Was this messed up or what? Then again, he was seriously reminded of that song that had been on the radio yesterday . . .

_Snap out of it._

Shaking his head to clear it, Tony opened the driver's side door of his Mustang and slid inside. He turned on the radio, searching for Frank Sinatra, while he pulled away from the curb and drove, not sure at the moment where he wanted to go. There wasn't any Sinatra on, but one song did catch his interest.

_". . . Oh, how could I have known  
><em>_That all my life I only needed you_

_Ooh almost paradise  
><em>_We're knocking on heaven's door  
><em>_Almost paradise  
><em>_How could we ask for more . . ."_

Immediately Tony recognized it as one of the hits from _Footloose._ Not one of his favorite movies, but it had some great songs. In this case, one point did strike home: How could either of them had known what would happen after they'd come together? Newsflash: they didn't. _Oh, joy, _he thought sarcastically.

...

Michael Rivkin whirled and slammed his fist against the wall of his hotel room. Anger bubbled up inside him. How could Ziva have betrayed him like that? She wouldn't have intentionally done anything, right?

Wrong.

He'd always felt that Agent DiNozzo was jealous of his relationship with Ziva. Why else would he warn him away from her? And the Mossad officer had always sensed an underlying tension between them. . . .

Insert several Hebrew curse words here.

He needed something to calm down. Maybe a drink would do the trick. Yes . . . Grabbing the keys for the rental, he headed out and made for a bar he was relatively familiar with.

Although it was mid-afternoon, the inside of the bar was dark, strobe lights flashing. Music was playing over the sound system, and Rivkin froze as he caught some of the lyrics, straining his ears to make them out over the noise.

_". . . I said please please understand I'm in love with another man . . ."_

Already he was having second thoughts about this. When the bartender, however, asked him what he wanted to drink, he ordered a beer.

He'd only taken a few sips before he left, moving back to his room. Slowly, he could feel his anger returning. She'd lied to him about where she'd been that night, who the father of her daughter was, everything. If she pushed him any further, well, she'd be the one who was hurt.

...

Abby bounced along in excitement, McGee on her seven. "Ohmigod, McGee, can you believe it? I'm really excited for them. I mean, it was so obvious they would eventually cave in and—"

"Abby—" Tim started.

She ignored him and prattled on. "Their daughter is just so cute! Do you think she looks more like Tony or Ziva? I personally—"

"ABBY!" Elf Lord yelled.

She stopped skipping and talking and looked at him. "What?"

"Did you miss the fact that Ziva was dating someone else at the time?"

"I don't see what that has to do with— Oh . . . Rivkin is gonna be sooo mad."

"Not to mention Gibbs."

"Good point. They _did _break Rule Twelve."

"So did we," Tim reminded her. "And besides, there was never any indication they were _dating_."

"Since it was probably just a one-night thing, I guess they _did _find a loophole," Abby conceded. She started skipping again. "Come on, McGee! I need a Caf-Pow."

The computer geek sighed and followed her. When one was with Abby, you never knew what you would get yourself into.

...

Gibbs released his surrogate daughter and looked her over, trying to assess how she was feeling. Stressed, a little upset, and . . . helpless? Not something he'd usually associate with Ziva. Then again, she'd gone through so much ever since she'd become the Mossad liaison with NCIS. She'd replaced Kate, been kidnapped and tortured in Africa, and now, recently . . . well, the former Marine didn't want to put that into words. He remembered thinking, months ago, it was time for her and Tony to break Rule Twelve, but he'd never thought _this _would come of it. She would pull through, though. Ziva always did. Abby was perfectly okay with it, Tony would deal—as would McGee—and Gibbs . . . he wasn't real happy with her, but he'd support her. Everyone on the team would. And then there was Rivkin. . . .

He'd _told _the Mossad officer to leave; even said Ziva David had worked for him and was therefore off limits. _Tony _had even warned him away, Gibbs knew. But would the arrogant Israeli listen? Noooo, and now Ziva, Tony, and Rivkin were caught up in a deadly triangle.

"Gibbs?" Ziva's soft voice pulled him back to the present.

"Yes?"

"What am I going to do? I know I want to return to NCIS, but Tony and Michael . . ."

"Hey." His hands grabbed her shoulders firmly, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Did I not say it was going to be all right? It will be, Ziva. Just give it time. You'll get used to it." His lips lifted in a wry smile. "And besides, my word is law. Not even the Fates can change destiny without my say-so."

She laughed weakly. "You're right, Gibbs. Thanks. I needed that."

"I know." He sipped his coffee and glanced at Sarah, still sound asleep. "She looks a lot like you, but has her father's eyes. Did you know that?"

Ziva shifted her weight, suddenly looking uncomfortable once more. "Yes. I knew."

"Ziva, why?"

She met his gaze squarely. "I don't know myself, Gibbs. Who knows why any of us do what we do?"

_Very good point_, he thought. And he didn't have an answer for her question.

...

Everything was going fine a few weeks—or maybe it was a month?—later. Ziva had settled into the routine of rising early to care for her daughter, go to work (sometimes taking Sarah with her) and head back home, even if she sometimes had to work extra hours. The team was being supportive, and Tony, though he was scared of kids, seemed to be doing his best at helping Ziva and his offspring. Rivkin had faded into the background; apparently he was back on the L.A. case.

Then, one night, everything changed.

Tony drove over to Ziva's apartment, hoping to see her, maybe spend time with her, and talk to her about a recent case. However, when the apartment door opened, Michael was standing there, not Ziva. "You're here," Tony said cooly.

"And Ziva is not," the Mossad officer replied. "She'll be back soon. You're welcome to come in and wait for her." He stepped back, gesturing inside with an outstretched arm. Then he turned and walked across the room. Tony, after a heartbeat's hesitation, stepped inside, staying in the doorway.

"Did you really expect me to leave her because you threatened me?" Michael asked, his back to the senior field agent. He took a drink from a glass he held in his hand.

"I had my hopes," Tony said, shutting the door shut behind him.

Rivkin set the drink down and raised his head, a odd expression on his face. "They include you coming here late at night, finding Ziva in an emotional state. You help her pick up the pieces?" There was a hint of scornful laughter in his voice. Glancing down, he sipped from the glass in his hand.

"I'm here about a case," DiNozzo said. "An American agent was killed last night. All the evidence points to a terrorist named Abin Tabal. I think you're familiar with him."

Rivkin took a final drink and turned around, eyes hard. Tony continued, "Of course, he killed himself before we could catch up to him."

"Is that it?"

"That's the theory." There was a hint of humorless laughter in Tony's voice as he added, "It's a little too clean for me."

"It does not sound clean at all," Michael said.

DiNozzo moved closer to the other man.

The Mossad officer continued, "Sounds like the further you dig, the messier it gets."

Tony kept moving forward, the predator in his movements. "Well, what can I say? The events of the past year have made me a little suspicious." Of what, he didn't say.

"Even to the people closest to you?"

"Oh, especially them." DiNozzo smirked. "We pulled information from Tabal's computer. Says that at some point, the Internet was connected here. Ziva's account."

Rivkin smiled slightly and raised an eyebrow as he said, "She is tied to this dead man? Was obviously duplicitous. The department must have mishandled information."

"That appears to be the shape of things," Tony said. Now he was right in the other man's face.

"You're here to question Ziva all because of a series of numbers found on a terrorist's computer?"

"I was. Until you opened the door." Michael took another drink. "As soon as you're done with your drink, Michael, you're under arrest for the murders of Abin Tabal and Federal Agent Tom Shermer."

Rivkin smiled slightly. "Good luck with that."

DiNozzo brought up a pair of handcuffs that flashed silver as they caught light and his gun. Immediately the Mossad officer lashed out, striking them away, and grabbing Tony by the shoulders, sent both of them flipping over the couch and landing on the floor. Their weight cracked a picture frame on a nearby table.

Outside, Ziva had just pulled up and exited her car. She made it a few steps before looking up at the window that was her apartment. Two shadowy forms were outlined black against the yellow light and she made out the shape of Michael and Tony. Muffled yells were coming from inside.

Back inside, the two men were on their feet. Rivkin landed a couple of punches in DiNozzo's gut. Somehow, the senior field agent managed to grab him around the torso and lift him off his feet. In the resulting moments that followed, Tony broke free, busted Michael's nose by swinging the door in his face, and tried to make a break for it. Rivkin snagged his arm and torqued it, breaking it. Tony let out a yell of pain, but silenced it as Michael put him in a choke hold, trying to kill him. Fear shot through the former cop, but he somehow slammed both of them up against a brick wall, trying to loosen Rivkin's killing hold. That only made him grip on tighter. Fighting for his life, DiNozzo brought up his other fist and punched Michael in the jaw. The two of them fell and landed on a glass table, crushing it with their weight.

Finally the pressure on his throat ceased. Tony rolled away from the fallen officer, who had a large sliver of glass in his side. He crawled for his gun, which was lying on the floor, his left arm dangling uselessly and bent at a funny angle. "Enough," he said loudly.

Michael was too maddened by rage to hear him. Standing upright, he slowly extracted the glass sliver from his side. Tony cried, "Don't do it!" The pain must have been excruciating, but Rivkin had been drinking and now, the look on his face was murderous.

"No." The senior agent's voice was horse and he watched in terror as the Mossad officer, weapon held out, advanced on him. His hand closed around his SIG and, taking aim at Michael's shoulder and chest, fired three times. Rivkin fell to the floor, body limp.

Then the door burst open and Ziva entered, gun drawn. Reacting on instinct, DiNozzo aimed his weapon at her. He lowered it when she took in the scene before her, face closed, tense and withdrawn. Rivkin was critically injured and her former lover . . .

_Oh, God. What just happened? Where's Sarah? _But the look in Tony's green eyes scared her even more. They were haunted, horrified. She could tell he hadn't wanted to shoot but had been forced to. Even so, her voice was taut and angry as she said, "What just happened?" She suddenly remembered the answer to her own question: her daughter was staying with Gibbs for the night.

"I'm not entirely sure right now," Tony panted, his breaths coming in short, harsh gasps.

Concerned, Ziva crossed the room and crouched at his side. "You're injured."

"So is he." He jerked his head at Rivkin's motionless body. "It was self-defense, Ziva. He tried to stab me with a piece of glass. I got in a few good blows, if I do say so myself."

"Tony, we have to get both of you to a hospital." She was reaching for her cell phone as she spoke.

He extended his unbroken hand and rested it on her arm. "Ziva, I don't think he can be saved. I got him three times in the chest. I don't see how he can be alive."

"You still need to be checked out, at least," she insisted.

She could see it when he relented. "All right, but can you drive me? And where's Sarah? This noise would have woken her up, and I didn't hear anything."

"She's with Gibbs. Now, come on." The beautiful Israeli draped his unbroken arm across her shoulder and rose slowly. "Can you stand?"

He didn't answer her; just set his feet on the floor and took a few steps when he was sure his weight was being supported. Together, they slowly made their way to Ziva's red Mini Cooper, the very car she'd picked him up in that rainy night so long ago. Making sure Tony was in a comfortable position, she pulled away, turning on the radio so they'd have something to listen to on the drive over. She had to be confident that, as Gibbs said, everything would be all right.

_". . . It seems like perfect love's so hard to find  
><em>_I'd almost given up  
><em>_You must have read my mind _

_And all these dreams I saved for a rainy day  
><em>_They're finally coming true  
><em>_I'll share them all with you  
><em>_'Cause now we hold the future in our hands_

_Ooh almost paradise  
><em>_We're knockin' on heaven's door  
><em>_Almost paradise  
><em>_How could we ask for more?  
><em>_I swear that I can see forever in your eyes  
><em>_Paradise_

_And in your arms salvation's not so far away  
><em>_It's getting closer  
><em>_Closer every day_

_Ooh almost paradise  
><em>_We're knocking on heaven's door  
><em>_Almost paradise  
><em>_How could we ask for more  
><em>_I swear that I can see forever in your eyes  
><em>_Paradise  
><em>_Paradise  
><em>_Paradise"_

Glancing over at Tony, she knew he identified with the song, too and she saw her own emotions reflected there. Yes, everything would be just fine.

Otherwise they'd have the wrath of Gibbs to deal with, and no one wanted that to happen.

Not even the tough as nails ninja assassin.

* * *

><p><strong>This<strong>**is complete. Kudos if you know the other song I used in this chapter. I already named the movie it was in, and I think the few verses I had gave it away. :) And it took me forever to look up the part of "Semper Fidelis" I wanted to see, so the fight scene in here is the one in the episode, in case you hadn't guessed that already.**

**Please leave a review. It's just a click away.**

**Thanks for everyone who's read/reviewed/alerted/favorited this story. It meas a lot.**

**~~ Brambleshadow**


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